


The Bestiary

by senlinyu



Series: The Creature Kink Collection [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Biting, Cat Ears, Cat/Human Hybrids, Catboys & Catgirls, Creature Fic, Demon Sex, Demons, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Fluff and Humor, Heavy Petting, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Part-Cat Hermione Granger, Vampires, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:20:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26888764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/senlinyu/pseuds/senlinyu
Summary: Assorted creature one-shots and ficlets of varying lengths. All Dramione.Ratings and any relevant warnings are listed in the chapter summary of the particular ficlet.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: The Creature Kink Collection [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939312
Comments: 126
Kudos: 1317
Collections: one shots or short stories





	1. Kiska

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He made a frustrated noise. “You have cat ears, Granger.”
> 
> She whirled on him, wand levelled at his throat. “Keep your voice down.”
> 
> “You have cat ears,” he said again in a stage whisper. “You cannot possibly expect me to pretend I don’t know that. Am I supposed to believe that Potter and Weasley simply accepted this news when they found out?”
> 
> In which Hermione has cat ears in 8th Year and Draco finds out.  
> Rated: M for heavy petting.  
> CW: cat ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For weestarmeggie, who dragged me unwillingly into the realm of cat-girls. I tried to fight it.

“Do you have normal ears too?”

Hermione closed her eyes, wincing and then turning to glare at Malfoy, hovering behind her, before pointedly tucking a lock of hair behind a normal ear. “Yes. Now go away.”

She sniffed and turned back to the books she was browsing.

He leaned against the bookshelf. “It’s a polite inquiry.”

She shoved the book back into its slot. “You weren’t supposed to see them, I asked you very nicely to pretend you hadn’t seen them. You said you would, and now you’re sneaking up on me in the library and asking personal questions.”

She started beelining for the end of the aisle.

He made a frustrated noise. “You have cat ears, Granger.”

She whirled on him, wand levelled at his throat. “Keep your voice down.”

“You have cat ears,” he said again in a stage whisper.“You cannot possibly expect me to pretend I don’t know that. Am I supposed to believe that Potter and Weasley simply accepted this news when they found out?”

Hermione blanched and then blushed.

Malfoy’s eyes went wide.

“They don’t know,” he said, his voice finally hushed. He stepped towards her, undeterred by the wand at his throat. “You haven’t told them. How on earth have you not told them?”

“It’s never come up,” she muttered averting her eyes.

Oh god, Malfoy was going to end up completely tangled in her life at this rate.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Didn’t you date Weasley? How did cat ears never come up? He didn’t find them when he kissed you?”

Hermione choked, both sets of ears burning. She stuck out her chin and sniffed. “I told him not to touch my hair because it tangles.”

“What?” Malfoy sounded strangely incredulous. “So you’ve just pinned them under your hair for — how long?”

Hermione looked away, her cheeks burning. She was pretty sure she was blushing everywhere she was physically capable of blushing at this point. “Second year. I had a potions accident and the petrification issue messed things up a bit.”

“Second year?” Malfoy seemed to have completely forgotten about the concept of personal space and was leaning in, peering down at her head without any subtlety as he tried to catch a glimpse at her carefully concealed ears.

If anyone saw them, there would be questions. Malfoy was clearly not going to go away until his curiosity was satisfied. She was tempted to obliviate him and run away.

She sighed.

“If I let you have one good look at them, will you stop bothering me?”

She glared at Malfoy as she reached up and found the painful hairpins that she used to keep her ears folded down under her hair, and pulled them free. Then she cast a counterspell on the disillusionment charm she kept on them so that they’d show clearly, rather than the vague phantom shape that Malfoy had managed to catch sight of the day before.

Her ears instantly pricked up, straightening and twitching in a way that felt horrendously embarrassing.

Malfoy stared at her in silence for several seconds with his mouth ajar. Finally, he swallowed.

“So they—they’re functioning ears?” He lifted a hand as if he intended to touch them. Hermione’s ears instantly flattened against her head.

He withdrew his hand.

“Yes. That’s why I can’t get rid of them. My human ears aren’t internally functional. So it’s cat ears or be deaf. I chose cat ears.” She inhaled. “Now. You’ve seen them,” she shoved him back, “so go away.”

* * *

He reappeared the next day.

Hermione levelled him with her most scathing glare. “You agreed to stop bothering me if I let you see them, why are you here again?”

Actually,” he slipped into the seat next to her, “I never agreed to leave you alone, you just said that.”

Hermione wanted to ram her head into the table. She tried to ignore him but Malfoy kept peeking over at her and she could tell he was trying to catch a glimpse of her ears again.

“You know,” he said after about twenty minutes of sidelong glances, “since I know about your ears, you could unpin them. It can’t be comfortable to have them bent like that.”

It wasn’t. It was actually headache-inducing after a few hours and it had already been more than a few hours. Unfortunately, Hermione needed an encyclopedia that Madam Pince did not allow students to check-out of the library.

“Yes,” Hermione’s voice was acerbic, “because that went so well for me last time when you suddenly showed up and found out I have them in the first place. I don’t really fancy having the whole school know.”

There was a pause.

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

Malfoy was strangely keen on her ears. Hermione was still surprised he hadn’t immediately gone and tried to tell everyone.

She turned to stare at him. “Why do you care?”

A faint flush rose to Malfoy’s cheeks.

“I figure I owe you,” he said, his voice terse, “at least that.”

That didn’t feel like a full explanation.

He shrugged and looked away. “If you want to, I’ll keep an eye out.”

* * *

After five days of having him show up, she relented. NEWTs were being nightmarish and even the grinding pressure on her ears from the hairpins felt like too much to bear.

“Fine,” she said abruptly and wrenched the pins free. Her ears flicked up and then began throbbing as the circulation improved. She rubbed at them miserably, trying to make sense of the rune translation she was working on.

“Do you plan to hide them forever?”

Malfoy was staring again, even though they were only half-visible under disillusionment.

Hermione scratched behind her ears and it made her eyes roll back and she had to suppress a moan of relief at not having them folded.

She shook her head, trying to hurry the blood circulation.

“I have to hide them. I don’t want to be the witch with cat ears. No one will ever take me seriously.”

“They don’t look — bad.”

She rolled her eyes again, that time it was not from relief. “They’re cat ears. They make me look like a moron. I want to make a difference in the world, I won’t if people find out.”

Her ears twitched, the tips flicking forwards. They always were over-sensitive after they’d been pinned down for a while.

”They’re cute.”

She probably wouldn’t have even heard the muttered words if her ears were still pinned, he said it so quietly. She whirled and found that Malfoy had gone spectacularly red.

“Th-the ears,” he said, “are cute. I’m not — I just mean your ears. Not you.”

She blinked.

“Right,” she said in a dry voice.

He somehow managed to turn even redder. “Not that you aren’t — I mean you’re fine. I just meant your ears specifically.”

Hermione didn’t think this conversation could possibly end up anywhere that she wasn’t offended by. She looked away. “Let’s just study.”

Malfoy nodded rapidly. “Yeah. Lets.”

* * *

“Could I—“

She sighed.

They were hiding out in an abandoned classroom so that she could have her ears out in peace without even a disillusionment charm, and Malfoy had been staring at them for about ten minutes while she’d ignored him, just waiting for him to get to the point.

“Could I touch them?”

She froze and blinked, swivelling to stare at him. “What?”

He looked like he expected to have his eyes clawed out. Which, she probably would if she had the claws to do it.

“You want to touch them?” she said slowly in an incredulous tone.

He shifted in his chair and set his quill down. “Cats like having their ears scratched. It was just a thought.”

“I am not a cat,” she said, her voice sharp. She jutted her chin up. “Just because I have these ears, doesn’t mean I’m a cat or have — cat tendencies.”

“I know.” He tugged surreptitiously at his collar, the hollows of his cheeks turned pink. “You — moan when you rub at them, it made me think you might like it if someone else touched them.”

No. No! She didn’t moan. She wouldn’t — she most certainly didn’t. Did she?

Oh god, she did. She didn’t mean to, it was just such a relief to unpin them. And now Malfoy thought it was some kind of pleasure response.

Hermione studied him carefully. “So you want to touch them because you think I’ll like it?”

His throat bobbed and he shifted in his chair as if it were too small for him, avoiding her eyes. “It was just a thought I had.”

Hermione was experiencing a maelstrom of conflicting emotions.

She turned away, staring blankly at her homework until the words started to swim. She looked up and stared at the stack of books in front of her, trying to reconcile her current sense of inner turmoil. There was a bizarre tingling in the base of her skull and along her shoulders at the thought of having her ears touched by someone else.

She’d always assumed that if she got serious about dating anyone that she’d just have to cross her fingers and hope they wouldn’t mind her cat ears. She didn’t expect anyone to like them. She didn’t even like them and she’d had them for five years.

A future partner would hopefully not be too unnerved at the sight that they’d be bothered if she kept them out at home. If not, she’d always just planned to wear lots of hats once she wasn’t in school wearing a uniform.

She hadn’t even been able to bring herself to tell Ron about her ears. She’d just felt sure that he wouldn’t like them or if he didn’t mind them it would be because he thought they were funny.

She didn’t want anyone to think they were funny.

She hadn’t let anyone touch them. No one had even known to try since Madam Pomfrey had poked at them with her wand, trying different spells, and the secret trips to St Mungo’s during the summer when the Healers prodded at them and said that she should have come in before being petrified because the mandrake roots had interacted oddly with the residual polyjuice potion and there was nothing they could do now if she wanted to retain her hearing.

That had all been years ago.

And now Draco Malfoy wanted to touch them, because he thought she might like it. 

The thought made her feel funny and overly warm.

She shifted and nibbled at her bottom lip.

All in all, Malfoy was getting much too close and far too interested.

She’d let him because Harry and Ron weren’t there for eighth year, but now she was beginning to see the error in that decision.

She hadn’t intended for Malfoy to be the person who knew about her ears, much less the person who didn’t mind them at all. That was not the role he was intended to occupy.

The niggling awareness that she _wanted_ him to touch her ears, that maybe it _would_ feel good, disturbed her most of all.

“Fine,” she said after a minute.

She saw Malfoy start and straighten from the corner of her eye.

She turned to look at him. “I’ll let you touch them. Once.”

Excitement flashed across his eyes and he leaned towards her.

Hermione held up her hand. “But — then I want you to leave me alone and stop bothering me.”

He started reaching for her head and she jerked back so that his long, pale fingers closed on empty air.

She narrowed her eyes, recalling all too clearly the last time she’d thought they’d made a tacit agreement.

“Agreed?” She stared pointedly at him.

His grey eyes flicked from her ears on the top of her head to her face and then back up to her ears again.

He wet his lips and gave a quick nod. “Agreed.”

She felt a quick stab of hurt that he’d agreed so quickly.

So he was just coming around because of the ears.

She exhaled.

Never mind. It wasn’t like she wanted him hanging around.

She leaned forward and sat stiff as a board when he reached out and his fingers just barely stroked up the fur on the right side of her ear. It tickled, just a little, but in a nice way.

A visible shiver ran through her, and he drew his hand back, eyes darting down to her face. “Is it—?”

Hermione’s ear twitched forward.

“It’s fine,” she said, already feeling oddly breathless. “I’m just not used to it.”

He leaned towards her again and reached out with both hands, his fingers lacing through her hair and then rubbing along the base of each of her ears.

Hermione’s entire body went rigid and her eyes widened.

A sharp, stuttering gasp nearly escaped her but she managed to press her lips together, arching her head just a little.

It was like waves of comfort washing down from the top of her head and through her body.

Malfoy shifted in his seat to face her, his fingers curling around the base of her ears and stroking softly. Hermione gave a soft moan and proceeded to nearly fall out of her chair as she collapsed onto him.

She barely managed to catch herself on his lap.

A heady tingling was radiating out from her skull, down her spine, and if she had a tail, which she blessedly did not, she was certain it would be doing strange things too.

Malfoy rubbed against a new spot.

Her eyes rolled back in her head so hard that she couldn’t even see anymore and her fingers curled involuntarily, gripping Malfoy’s thigh through his trousers and then releasing and then gripping him again. She couldn’t seem to make them stop and she didn’t particularly want to.

This was wonderful. It was incredible the way it felt when it was someone else rubbing them.

Her jaw loosened and she inhaled unsteadily as she pressed her head up against his hand and squeezed at his legs again.

“This good?” he said, sounding almost as breathless as she was. “D’you like this?”

His fingers slid slowly along the base of her ears again, caressing them just a little more firmly.

She mewled in response.

Her face was burning. She knew rationally that she shouldn’t be groping Draco Malfoy’s thighs and practically climbing into his lap to get her secret cat ears rubbed. However, reason and rationality seemed very, very far away just then.

Her entire body was awash in comforting pleasure. There were little shivers and tingles running through her to her toes.

Her breath was coming quicker and she was so dazed with the sensation that she didn’t even realize how far she was leaning forwards until her face collided with Malfoy’s chest and she buried her nose in his robes, breathing in the crisp, chocolatey scent of whatever cologne it was that he apparently wore.

Her fingers slid further up his thigh and then gripped at them again. She thought her fingernails were probably biting into his skin but he wasn’t complaining and she wasn’t sure if she could stop anyway because every time a new sensation rippled out from her ears, her hands spasmed.

He was very muscular.

She hadn’t noticed that about him. She supposed he would be since he’d played quidditch. Her hand slid up higher along his thigh, palm pressed flat and he groaned.

He drew his hands away from her ears just long enough to pull her face away from his chest and get her properly onto his lap so that she was straddling him. Her hands were resting against his chest now and her fingers kept curling against the hard planes of his pectorals.

Apparently, he was very fit everywhere.

“This good?” His voice sounded a bit strained as his fingers tangled in her hair again and gently stoked at her ears.

Hermione nodded, feeling somewhere between drunk and confunded. She stared at him through glassy eyes as he kept softly massaging both of her ears.

The tingling kept growing and concentrating inside her until her fingers curled tightly, clawing down his chest or else her hips shimmied trying to relieve the growing sense of tension inside of her, which only succeeded in creating more of a different variety of tension.

Malfoy’s face was getting increasingly flushed and she could feel his breathing getting shorter every time, even though she was certain she had to look completely deranged.

It was heavenly.

She hadn’t expected it could be so different when it was Malfoy fingers curling around and massaging the base. Fingernails lightly scratching but mostly rubbing in nice little circles that—oh.....

It made her tingle all over and feel like a puddle on the inside.

If he stopped rubbing her ears, she was probably going to bite him.

She sighed with relief and tilted her head against his hand as her back tensed and she arched.

His fingers found a particular spot and it was as though her bones had evaporated and she proceeded to melt.

She gave a long low moan and her lips crashed into his.

She didn’t mean to kiss him.

Not that she had never thought about it before. She had, but the idea was ridiculous and Hermione Granger did not dwell on ridiculous things. Why on earth would she and Draco Malfoy kiss? They wouldn’t. 

So, obviously, she hadn’t intended to kiss him and certainly not right then when he was giving her an ear massage.

It was more that she fell into his face, and their lips happened to meet and since their lips were already touching it seemed like a waste not to at least kiss him alittle.

And then he kissed her back, so she carried on kissing him.

As it happened, Malfoy was as good at kissing as he was at stroking her ears.

His lips were hot and hungry, and one of his hands left her ears, which was disappointing, but then his arm wrapped tight around her waist until her pelvis was grinding hard against his hips.

Oh. That was nice too. A different kind of nice but no less deliciously pleasurable. 

She rolled her hips trying to find friction that matched the tensing heat pooling in her abdomen.

His other hand was still tangled in her hair, teasing her right ear in a way that made it flick forward and twitch, sending a powerful shiver through her.

Malfoy picked her up and laid her out on the desk and practically climbed on top of her, still kissing her, but now his hand that had been around her waist was roaming across her body.

“This good?” His voice was rasping as he peppered kisses across her face, his fingers sliding under her shirt along her skin.

“Mhmm,” she said with a gasp as she arched against him, her hips rolling up to meet his.

His breathing was becoming harsher and harsher as it burned against her neck as he nipped at her skin. She whimpered and her fingernails raked down his chest. He gasped and his whole body shuddered as his hips snapped against hers.

It seemed, a distant part of her brain was still insistently monologuing, that Malfoy’s interest was not solely limited to her ears because he wasn’t touching them at all now, and he still seemed very interested, so that was nice.

His hand clamped down on her hip, holding her in place as he knelt over her, breathing raggedly, and then he carefully pushed her legs apart and sank down on top of her, kissing her as his hand gripped her hair, holding her in place. She could feel him, very hard and thick and pressed against the length of her pelvis.

His other hand had slipped under her shirt again, thumb rubbing slow circles as his fingers slid along her waist until he reached her bra. He squeezed and she made an incoherent moan against his lips and arched up.

She could feel his fingers brushing across the cup, finding the way under the band and her nipples hardened in anticipation. Pulsing, hungry want coiled tighter in between her legs.

She shifted, trying to get a better angle to run her hands over his shoulders.

BANG!

Hermione screamed. Malfoy flung himself off of her, back-peddling nearly across the room.

Hermione looked around wildly, trying to find the source and finding nothing and no one else present before glancing down and discovering she’d knocked her runic dictionary onto the floor.

She sat up, cheeks aflame and found Malfoy standing nearly a dozen feet away.

His cheeks were stained scarlet, his grey eyes nearly black with lust, his pale hair was rumpled and hanging over his eyes, and his robes were hanging off one arm while his shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest.

He looked completely edible.

Like she might want to lick him and find out what he tasted like in all sorts of places.

They stared at each other wide-eyed for several seconds before Hermione registered that her skirt was bunched around her waist and her shirt was shoved up past her bra.

If she hadn’t knocked a book off the desk, she had no idea when they might have stopped, or if they would have at all.

“Well,” Hermione finally said, giving a small cough and straightening her clothes.

The belated attempt at modesty seemed to jostle Malfoy from his slack-jawed stupor as he stared at her. 

“Yeah,” he said, glancing down and pulling his shirt closed.

Hermione swallowed and felt her ears prick forwards. She suppressed an urge to reach up and squash them down to hide them and their treacherously eager twitching.

She was never going to stop thinking about what it felt like to have her ears touched. Malfoy’s long, agile fingers laced through her hair, finding all the places where she was most responsive—

A little shiver ran through her and she pressed her thighs together.

Her ears perked forward even more. She hurriedly reached up and pinned them down. No more of that today. For heaven sake, if she acted any hornier Malfoy would think he’d made her go into heat.

She was almost positive that she couldn’t go into heat, that she didn’t. However, an hour before she would have been positive that having Malfoy touch her ears wouldn’t result in her giving him an involuntary upper thigh massage.

She slid the last pin into place with a wince.

“So.” Her voice was shaking with adrenaline. “That was — a lot, I think,” she said at last, once her ears were carefully concealed and she felt like her brain had stopped looping obsessively over the idea of Malfoy’s fingers lacing into her hair to rub her ears again. More. Ideally very soon.

Maybe somewhere more comfortable.

There were some very nice alcoves with cushioned window seats on the fourth floor. 

Stop it.

Malfoy just nodded without saying a word.

“I didn’t mean to — climb you,” she said, squirming just a little at the thought of climbing him again. “I didn’t expect it to be so — “

Consuming? Pleasurable? Incredible?

Every joke about cats in heat was suddenly coming to mind. She flushed.

“I didn’t plan to — “ she gestured down at the desk she was still perched upon the edge of and then over towards Malfoy who was still pulling his clothes back on.

“No,” was all Malfoy said, looking away from her as he pulled his robes back onto his shoulders. “Sorry.”

He ran a hand through his hair and seemed to look almost everywhere in the room but at Hermione.

There was a pause.

“I’ll see you around then. In class or whatever,” he said, his voice flat and sort of deadened.

Hermione blinked and remembered that she’d made him agree not to come around or bother her anymore if she let him touch her ears once.

She should probably retract that.

“We could study here again tomorrow,” she said quickly. “If you want.”

She watched him as the flat grey in his eyes shifted into molten quicksilver.

Her fingers curled around the edge of the desk and a slow tingle slid down her spine as he stared at her. His eyes glittered, hot and hungry.

“Sure,” he said, straightening, a smile lurking in his features, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art of Draco first seeing Hermione's cat ears by [_mignonchignon](https://www.instagram.com/_mignonchignon/)  
> More cat-girl art: [here ](https://www.instagram.com/p/CJwMaYTgqJQ/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link) and [here.](https://www.instagram.com/p/CJyt9m1gLfo/)


	2. Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Repost of my birthday ficlet for theheavycrown, my prime enabler in all things creature. Illustration by Avendell now included. 
> 
> Demon!Draco.  
> Rated: M  
> Tropes: demons, soft monsterfucking, angst, wings.  
> TW: Is it major character death if the character is now undead?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving this story from my Anthology collection over to my creature fic collection.

It’s the moonless nights when he comes.

The bed creaks and Hermione feels the mattress shift. When she opens her eyes, darkness like a black hole looms over her. Impossibly long fingers slide possessively around her shoulders, pulling her close, lips finding hers, as he slowly bleeds into view. His pale skin and hair barely visible in the dim light.

She wraps her arms around him, pulling him desperately close and kissing across his face. “Draco… Draco… I didn’t know if you’d come again.”

He feels so close to human. Almost. Everywhere she touches him, he feels almost human. His fingers are almost human but too long. His features still almost the same but the angles are sharper now, harder. His eyes are still silver, but now there’s a luminous glow behind them and the sclera surrounding them is black. Everything about him whispers, “other.”

He wraps his arms tightly around her and lies there for several minutes just holding her. She runs her fingers across his shoulders, trying to feel him, to memorise the weight of his body resting against hers and what it feels like when he grips her close against his chest, so she can replay it on all the nights when he isn’t there.

He breathes in against her hair, and his hands begin roaming across her body, gripping her closer, dragging her tight against him so that she wraps her legs around his hips, pulling his mouth against hers.

There’s a bitter aftertaste to his kisses, like ash on her tongue.

She draws back, running her fingertips across the sharp angle of his cheekbone before tracing up an elongating ear.

His silver eyes stare down at her in the darkness, the irises are tinged blood red.

There’s a pang in her chest as she realizes that the expression in his eyes isn’t the same. There’s something missing now in the way he looks at her.

He looks away. Preoccupied with ripping her slip out of the way so that it no longer obstructs his view. She reaches out and tilts his face up so that their eyes meet again.

“Do you remember me, Draco?” she asks after a long silence. “Do you remember why you come here?”

He goes rigid, staring at her, then a growl vibrates through him, starting low in his chest and the rising up until she feels the burn of his breath on her face as he grips her crushingly close. He buries his face against her shoulder and she feels his fangs drag across her skin in a way that sends a shiver racing down her spine.

“Mine.”

She gives a laugh and presses their faces together. “Yes. You married me, once upon a time.”

She kisses him again as he pulls away the shredded remains of her slip until she’s bare beneath him. He slithers down her body, serpentine and possessive. Running his fingers across every inch of her. Following it with his tongue and his teeth. She moans at his touch, gripping his shoulders, twisting her legs around him, raking her fingernails across his shoulders as she shatters, feeling them score across his skin.

_Remember me. Remember that I touched you. Carry the marks with you when you go._

When he pushes into her, he pauses and his shoulders twist. With a long groan, his wings emerge and unfurl, black enough to swallow the night sky. The deadly claws on the arc of the wings are only inches above her face. She’s used to it now, but she still experiences a stabbing jolt of fear every time she watches it happen. His wings flare out when she tenses around him and tangles her arms and legs with his.

His shoulders tremble when her fingers trail near his wings. She brushes her fingers lightly against the base and he gives a rasping moan as his body jerks.

The rest of the world can fade away. He’s all she sees and that’s more than enough.

“Hermione,” he says, nuzzling her afterwards when they’re lying side by side. He’s folded his wings possessively around her, they’re warm and soft against her bare skin. Her legs are tangled with his and he’s cradling her face in his hands, staring at her, studying her.

“Yes?” she says.

“Are you alright?”

She rests a hand on his cheek, her fingers resting on the sharpening angle of his cheekbone for a moment before her hand slides back to run through his hair. There’s a ridge under his hair just past his hairline. She traces her fingers over it.

He’s growing horns.

She wonders if they’ll be visible by the next time he comes.

“Of course I’m alright. You came back,” she says.

They talk for the rest of the night. With every passing hour, Hermione watches the humanness slowly bleed back into him. She tells him about her research, about her theories. He doesn’t tell her what he does when he’s away. He doesn’t want her to know, although she has her guesses. He reminisces about her, what he remembers of them.

“You called me a cockroach,” he says.

Her eyes crinkle in the corners as she notices his mannerisms returning, his left eyebrow is quirked up and the corner of his mouth is pulling in a vague smirk.

“Well,” she says, “you were—back then.”

They only have until dawn. He’ll vanish as the sun rises.

She knows that there are parts of him that are fading away. Every month, each time he manages to slip between dimensions and return to her, there’s less of him. Fewer of those infinite facets that she’s memorised. The ones that remain when he returns are sharpened. On the inside and outside, he is becoming more of who he is.

That’s why he’s there.

She curls closer, pressing her face against his chest, listening for a heart that’s ceased to beat. He wraps his arms around her, hands running up and down her back, unrestrainedly territorial, wings tightening protectively around her. She wonders what kind of hell he’d bring down if anyone ever tried to take her from him.

Personal vice defines what a demon’s nature is. It is the key to who they are and what they become. 

Draco was always sinfully possessive.

He will always come back for what is his.

And she’ll always be waiting for him.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by [Avendell.](https://instagram.com/avendellart)


	3. Soft & Tasty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vampire!Hermione and Draco cuddling. Humorous.  
> Rated: M  
> Warnings: dub-con biting.

“So soft…”

Draco scowled. “It’s not soft.”

She nuzzled her cheek against his bare arse. “It’s soft. Like a marshmallow.”

Indignation flooded through Draco. “It’s not a marshmallow. I’m an athlete, other people would kill for this physique. My arse is like marble. Alabaster. It’s firm and defined. I’m — “

There was a stabbing pain as two fangs sank into his left arse cheek.

“Jesus fucking Christ! Granger! Give a man some warning.”

She was busily sucking and didn’t pay him any mind. He felt her fangs retract and her tongue lapped soothingly on the two punctures she’d made in his alabaster skin.

“Tasty…” she said.

Draco looked away with a sigh. Her tongue dragged across his arse several more times and he felt himself twitch and harden as if they hadn’t just had sex twenty minutes earlier.

“Soft… and tasty,” she said under her breath, nuzzling his arse again before daintily continuing to lap at him.

Draco buried his face in his arms with a resigned sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by gubabuba. Find her on [tumblr](https://gubabubas-sketchbook.tumblr.com) and [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/gubabuba.art/).


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